


Petunia's Last Stand

by Hpchemgrad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Sisterhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13171245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hpchemgrad/pseuds/Hpchemgrad
Summary: I’m awful at titles… and dialogue so bear with me. Also this was supposed to just be a one-shot. Oops.This is sort of based on the 12daysofjilychristmas prompt “We’re dating and I arrived for lunch at yours but you aren’t here yet, so now I’m sitting on the sofa making small talk with your parents…"But.... It's more like a look at Petunia's and Lily's relationship in the later years.





	1. Power

Petunia Dusley (formerly Evans) was experiencing something new. Her mother had recently passed away, joining Petunia’s father in the ground and leaving her two daughters to fend for themselves. While alive, the elder Evans’ had supported both daughters in their entirely different lives, but always seemed more interested in and proud of their youngest daughter. It is important to note that Petunia was not the youngest daughter. The loss of her parents meant that, as the last remaining family member, Petunia was the guardian of her younger sister. Sure, her sister would be of age soon, but until then, Petunia finally held something new. Power. 

She, Petunia, was guardian and protector and legally in control of her younger sister. She could finally put a stop to the madness her parents allowed her sister to partake in. She could finally put her foot down and get her freakish sister to conform so that, one day, the two of them could be close again. She had the power to make everything the way it was supposed to be, but she had to do so carefully. Her sister was clever, a freak, but a clever freak. So, Petunia bid her time. She occasionally corresponded while her sister was away at her boarding school, something she had avoided in previous years, in an attempt to lure her sister into a false sense of security – it sounded nefarious but was for her sisters own good.

Over the summer, before her mother succumbed to cancer, Petunia had gotten married. Her wedding was almost perfect. She married the most ordinary and successful man she could find, the only hitch being his instant disdain for her sister’s peculiarities. Petunia had made efforts to convince her now-husband that her sister would certainly grow out of this foolishness and become more normal with age, but he was left unconvinced and requested her sister be excluded from the wedding party. Petunia, while agreeing that her freak of a sister didn’t belong in the life they were crafting, harbored guilt over this decision. Her sister attended the wedding with an attractive and well-groomed boy on her arm, someone who was just a friend, but shared the same peculiarity. A person who, along with her sister, caused such a commotion at the reception that Vernon’s family was still talking about it. Petunia was willing to let it go, she was a good sister and a big person. But the presence of this male friend in her sister’s life made her aware of a problem that could potentially make her plan more difficult. If her sister was attached romantically to someone in that unnatural world she disappeared to for school, Petunia knew that her task would be nearly impossible because, for all of her sister’s faults, she loved harder than anyone Petunia had ever met.

Christmas time brought decorations and sadness, as it was the first holiday without her parents. It also brought her little sister home from school and marked approximately one month until Petunia lost her new-found power. Her sister was hesitant to join in the Christmas festivities, almost like she sensed a trap, but Petunia won her over. Petunia willed herself to listen to some of the stories her sister had from school – it was only polite since the girl was editing her unnaturalness out of them. Petunia went to bed worried after hearing a few too many tales about her fellow “Head Boy” – apparently another student leader. 

Christmas Day came and went and Petunia and Vernon exchanged glances in preparation of the trap they were about to lay, a good trap, a trap to save her sister from herself. But her sister had other ideas. Just as they sat down for tea, her sister looked up with a guilty expression on her face, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Tuney.” Petunia nodded and willed her husband to be patient with their plan. Her sister continued, “I… I have a boyfriend. I was hoping I could introduce you… before we go back to school.” Petunia’s face drained of color while her husbands turned red. As Vernon gruffly exited the room, Petunia cooled her expression and told her sister, “I don’t see why you’ve kept this from us, but you may invite him for tea.” Petunia winced at her own formal tone but said nothing else as she exited the room to find her irate husband.

When Vernon was sufficiently calmed down, Petunia exited their bedroom and heard her sister talking on the phone down the hall. A sudden wave of relief flooded her, if her sister was using the telephone instead of one of those wretched birds to communicate, then it was possible that her boyfriend was someone she had met nearby. Someone normal. Her sister offered no details about the boy after she phoned him, just that he would come for tea the following afternoon.

Later that night, the telephone rang. Petunia picked up and a male voice on the line, speaking slow and at a higher volume than normal, said, without giving Petunia a chance to speak at all, “Evans! I’ve just realized, we’ve got a dinner party at night tomorrow. I’m so sorry for forgetting…Mum I know! I’m telling her!… but could we have lunch at noon and then you can accompany back to my house for the dinner?” Petunia got over her horror at the boy’s terrible manners and simply said, “That will do, good bye.” And promptly hung up. She took a deep breath and reassured herself that a stupid boy such as that would not hold her sister’s attention long, but at least he was without abnormality if he knew how to use the telephone. 

Unfortunately, Petunia forgot to communicate this change of plans with her sister, and, as noon approached, she was nowhere to be found. At exactly 12:00 there was a knock at the door. Irritated at her sister’s absence, she opened the door herself and found a young man with black hair sticking up in every direction grinning in her doorway. As she stared at him, she thought he looked vaguely familiar, but reassured herself that she must have seen him while peering over her rhododendrons as he was a neighborhood boy. As she invited him in, there was something coiling in her stomach trying to tell her that all was not well. 

Vernon eyed the boy cautiously and led him to the sitting room, giving him a brief handshake as they sat down. Petunia busied herself in the kitchen, playing host to her sister’s boyfriend in her absence. In her busying, she failed to notice the boyfriend nervously look around for any sign of Lily. Petunia returned to the sitting room with tea and biscuits, but the boyfriend refused both. As he ran his hand through his already disheveled hair, the unease within Petunia doubled. This was a gesture she had surely seen before, yet she couldn’t place it. The boyfriend cleared his throat and asked, “Is Lily alright?” Petunia attempted to give him a reassuring smile and informed him that, “Certainly, she’ll be along straight away.” The boyfriend nodded, as though reassuring himself, and helped himself to a biscuit – which, thankfully the boy did have some manners – and complimented Petunia’s baking. 

After another bout of awkward silence, Vernon decided to take control of the situation, “So, boy, I assume you’re still in school?” The boyfriend nodded and grinned, “Yep, just one year left, same as Lily.” Vernon nodded, “And what are your plans after?” The question caused the grin to slip off of the boyfriends face momentarily and he cautiously answered, “Well, er, I’m not sure exactly what Lily has told you.” Vernon, always one to appreciate a direct answer, huffed at this response, “Well, until just the other day we didn’t know you existed! She’s told us nothing!” If the boy hadn’t caused Petunia so much unease, she might have admonished her husband for being rude to their guest; however, there was something about this boy and Petunia wanted answers. Vernon burst in again before the boyfriend had a chance to respond, “Will you be going off to University? Or getting a job straight away?” The boyfriend’s expression went from mild panic to confusion and he slowly answered, “I’ll probably require more training, but, er, no unisersery for me.” His slip of the tongue almost confirmed Petunia’s greatest fear. She silenced Vernon and asked the most important question, “Where, exactly, are you going to school now?” His face scrunched up in extreme confusion, but before he could respond, Petunia’s sister flounced through the front door. 

Her sister looked into the sitting room with wide panicked eyes, “James! You’re… you’re quite early!” The boyfriend’s confused expression did not change as he stated, in question form, “I phoned? I told you I’d be coming at noon?” Her sister shook her head and, after a brief pause, turned to look at Petunia with a carefully blank face, “Did you take the call, Tuney?” 

Petunia decided that a change of subject was the best idea and contorted her face into saccharine smile, “Slipped my mind, dear sister. Your boyfriend was just telling us where he goes to school.” 

Now it was her sister’s turn to look confused, but she did offer a response, “Tuney, he goes to school with me. He’s the Head Boy at Hog-” 

“We do not speak of that place in this house!” Vernon quickly and loudly interrupted.

Worst fears confirmed, Petunia’s smile quickly turned into a snarl, “And you saw fit to hide this from us! A clever ruse to bring one of your kind into our home?”

The boyfriend quickly stood up and stood beside Petunia’s sister in a protective manner. This act only incensed Petunia further – who did this boy think he was? It was Petunia’s job to protect her sister, to make her normal, and this poorly-mannered, bed-headed boy was working against her. 

Her sister, eyes now full of fury, lashed out, “Hide this from you?! I’ve hidden nothing! You’ve met him before!! He was my date to your bloody wedding!”

While Petunia thought she had reached the peak of her rage, she had forgotten about her husband who was turning an alarming shade of puce beside her. He marched over and took the boyfriends shirt in his hand, their faces inches apart, and bellowed, “Leave my home this instant! I’ll not allow any filthy… filthy… half-breeds in this home.” Vernon released the boyfriend and quickly rounded on her sister, “You’ll pack your things this instant and leave. Anything you leave behind will be thrown away as we decontaminate the room you’ve been taking. You aren’t welcome here!”

Petunia layed a gentle hand on her husband’s shoulder and, now close to tears, whispered, “Leave Lily, just leave.”


	2. Hope

It was an ordinary day, the sun was shining, birds chirping, and Petunia Dursley was spying on her neighbors as she did her gardening. It was early in the morning and she greeted the postman as he dropped off her mail. She sifted through the envelopes as she brought them inside, but stopped dead in her tracks when she came across a letter addressed with painfully familiar cursive. Petunia looked around to be sure no one was watching as she scurried into the house, as though just the presence of this letter would create gossip.  
It was early in the morning, but Petunia poured herself a large glass of wine in preparation; she needed something to take the edge off before she dared open the letter. Plied with alcohol, she sat at her kitchen table and carefully opened the envelope as though it contained something dangerous. She cautiously removed the letter and opened it up to read.  
She forced herself not to cry, although there were tears threatening to fall. The first she had heard from her sister in 18 months would be through the girl’s messy cursive. She finished her glass, took a deep breath, and read.

“Petunia,  
It’s been so long since we last spoke, please know that I still wish the best for you.  
I’m writing to tell you that I’ll be getting married tomorrow, to James. I so wish we could have invited you, that we could have used this celebration of love to catch up. But I hope you understand that it is for your own safety that you cannot attend. There is so much you don’t know about my world, so much I neglected to tell you. My world isn’t as full of happiness and peace as I led you and Mum and Dad to believe. I wish so much that you could be there, I miss my sister.  
And though my world is so full of conflict, it is also full of love. I hope you’ll be relieved to hear that I’ve not been alone, you should be unsurprised that I’ve made my own little family of misfits.  
I’m willing to forgive, if you’re willing to accept.  
All my love,  
Lily”

There they were, the tears she had been holding back, streaming down her face. Petunia had harbored guilt over not including her sister in her own wedding party, but at least she had the decency to keep her on the guest list. Despite her sister’s words of reassurance, it hurt to be excluded, it felt like an act to intentionally bring her pain. Petunia, so focused on the gibe, didn’t consider what her sister’s words meant, didn’t consider that her sister was in danger.  
She angrily folded the letter and hid it in the bedroom, Vernon would fly into a blind rage at her sister’s suggestion that they would ever need her forgiveness.  
Petunia splashed water on her face, took a deep breath, and carried on with her day.  
3 months later, when Petunia realized she was pregnant, she was sifting through boxes in her bedroom and came across her sister’s letter. Whether is was hormones or the power of time and an open mind, Petunia decided to reply. 

“Sister,  
I hope your wedding was all you hoped for. While it hurt to be excluded, it would have been no place for normal people like us. I have some rather good news to share with you, if you’d like to hear it over dinner. I’ll reserve a table at Chanderson’s on the 15th of December for a Christmas dinner should you choose to accept.  
Petunia Dursley”

Satisfied with her generous invitation, Petunia mailed the letter off before consulting with her husband. When Vernon arrived home later that night and asked about her day, she replied, unthinkingly, that she had invited her sister to dinner next month.  
The clatter of a fork hitting the table was Petunia’s first indication that her invitation had been a mistake. The next clue was the reddening of her husband’s face as he slowly asked, “You. Did. What?” It dawned on Petunia that the last time they had seen her sister, it was her husband who declared they never wished to see her again.  
Petunia quickly clarified that she had not invited them to their home, but to Chanderson’s, the swankiest nearby restaurant. Vernon began to sputter and finally declared, “Impossible! We must meet them at least as far as London! That way they won’t be able find an excuse to return home with us! Most importantly, we can’t go anywhere people will recognize us… people will talk.” Petunia quickly agreed to her husband’s terms and the couple continued eating dinner.  
As the couple was heading to bed, Petunia informed Vernon that she received a letter from her sister informing them that she and the boyfriend they met had gotten married. Petunia softly told her husband, “We’re having a child, Vernon. I have to give her another chance, she’s my sister and this is as good time as any to reach out.” Vernon softly kissed his wife’s forehead and nodded.


	3. Disaster

After a couple short and highly formal correspondences, by letter instead of phone, deciding on restaurant and time, the day of the dinner finally arrived. As she was getting ready, Petunia placed her hand on her still-flat belly and thought to herself, “Time to meet your aunt, little one. Let’s hope this goes well.”

The Dursley’s arrived fifteen minutes early to their reservation, beating the newlyweds. As they waited for their table, Vernon became increasingly incensed that the other couple had yet to arrive, “Honestly, this is the nicest restaurant in the neighborhood, they could at least have the decency to arrive on time.” Petunia patted his knee and gave him a reassuring smile, successfully calming him for a couple minutes. The couple they were waiting for arrived just as the hostess announced the table was ready. Her sister looked radiant, as always, and gave Petunia a bright smile. The boyfriend… no, husband, looked uneasy and as messy as she remembered. The group made their way to a table in the back of the restaurant.

They all sat down and endured an awkward silence as they perused the menu, each unwilling to start a conversation. Petunia decided, as the eldest sister and one to extend the olive branch, to break the silence, “How was the wedding?” Everyone at the table jumped, but quickly her sister looked at her husband with such adoration as he took her hand. She said, “It was small, lovely but small. We had it in the gardens behind James’ parent’s home.” Her sister’s eyes were shining and, despite never liking the man that had put the ring on her finger, Petunia did find herself relieved that her sister was happy. Vernon tutted, ready to criticize anything he could find, but her sister beat him to the punch, “You said you had some good news, Tuney?”

It was the only thing she could have asked to prevent Vernon from making an outburst. The large man took his wife’s hand and smiled larger than her sister had probably ever witnessed, but allowed Petunia to give the news. Petunia took a deep breath and revealed, “We’re pregnant… You’ll be an aunt come summer.” Her sister reached across the table to take one of Petunia’s hands and tears began to leak down her face. Her emerald eyes shone brighter as she quietly cried, “That’s so lovely Tuney, you’ll be a wonderful mother for sure.”

The emotion was too much for Petunia and she silently thanked her husband’s wonderful idea of having this dinner far from the eyes of their prying neighbors. Her sister’s husband cleared his throat and got her sister’s attention. It seemed the two had a silent conversation and Lily slowly said, with a grin on her face, “We aren’t telling many people yet… but you’ll be an aunt come summer as well. Isn’t it wonderful! They’ll grow up as friends!”

This was the worst thing her sister could have said in terms of Vernon’s temper and he nearly choked on the expensive wine he had ordered. Petunia put a calming hand on his knee while using all of her effort to keep smiling, causing him to take a calming deep breath, before asking, “Aren’t you lot a bit young to be having one of your own.” The husband smirked, as if he had been expecting this response, but remained silent. Her sister was the one to respond, “We hadn’t really planned on it, but our child will be so loved and we couldn’t be happier.”

There was a pause in the conversation as a waitress took their dinner orders. Once she walked away, Petunia presented a gift to the couple. They were taken aback, as Petunia had hoped, giving the upper hand back to her. This dinner was supposed to be about her and her baby, after all, but instead her sister had stolen the spotlight. The newlyweds didn’t need to know that the gift was an awful vase regifted from Vernon’s sister, they just needed to be taken off guard and feel guilty that they had nothing to give in return. Both she and Vernon enjoyed watching the couple struggle to thank them for such a terrible gift. Vernon took this opportunity to begin his questioning, “So, boy, what are you doing to support your new family?” The husband looked surprised and replied, “Well, we’re living in my parents home and-”

Vernon quickly interrupted, sensing weakness in his answer like a shark senses blood in the water, “So, you don’t even have your own house. Tell me, have you got a job?”

The husband paused and looked over at his wife, whose eyes were closed as she took deep breaths. Eventually, he simply responded, “My parents are quite old and ill. We’re taking care of them.”

Vernon, unsatisfied, pressed on, “Sure sure, whatever excuse you need to live with your parents. But do you have a job, boy?”

The husband, hackles raising, responded, “Not a paid job currently, but what I’m doing _is_ quite important. It’s complica-”

Vernon interrupted again, “So, no house. No job. You’ll be a top notch father for sure. What about a car? Surely you must have a car for your wife and child. I, myself, have a brand new Capri. The best sports car of the decade. The acceleration can’t be matched in a family vehicle. All leather interior. You aren’t going to force your family onto public transport now are you?”

The husband’s face now displayed a dangerous smirk, “I myself prefer the new Nimbus models, 0 to 120 vertical meters in 7 seconds, steering is far more intuitive than the comet models…” The husband rattled on about something that Vernon didn’t understand and it was clear he was entertained by Vernon’s confusion. Her sister appeared to be fighting laughter and Petunia was feeling a surge of anger; however, Vernon burst first, “What on bloody earth are you talking about?” The husband, now looking innocent as ever, “My racing broom of course.”

Vernon’s eyes bulged to the size of saucers but the arrival of their dinners prevented his outburst. When the waitress finally left the tense and silent table, Vernon leaned so far forward that his tie smooshed into his pasta and he harshly whispered to her sister’s husband, “You take me for some fool? I have a wife, my own house, an expensive car, an excellent job and soon I’ll have a child. You are just some lazy sod, living off your parents, no job, a scourge on society, you should be ashamed of yourself. Entirely unprepared to be a parent. Unfit to be a husband. It’s people like you that are bringing our country down.”

Her sister had been quiet through the entire exchange, but it seemed her anger was now getting the best of her. Petunia braced herself, all too familiar to the temper they were now about to endure. Her sister’s lips had formed a hard line, a dark blush had risen to her cheeks, and she was visibly trembling as she shouted, “We came here to catch up. As FAMILY. I should have known better! Of course you only invited us to criticize! You know NOTHING about our lives, how DARE you talk to us this way!” She stood up and began to put on her coat, finally her husband sighed and did the same.

Petunia was now beyond grateful that this outburst was not witnessed by anyone they would ever see again. If asked, Petunia would say that the oppressive feeling crushing down on her was embarrassment.

As months went by, and her stomach began to grow, Petunia realized that she had characterized her feelings about the dinner incorrectly; it was shame that she was experiencing. When her son was finally born, she mailed a picture of him to her sister with a note that only said “Your nephew. Dudley Dursley.” About a month afterward, Petunia received a photograph of a black-haired baby with “Harry James Potter” written on it. She couldn’t bring herself to respond and could only hope that the two of them could resolve things as their boys grew older.

Over a year later, Petunia would discover that any hopes of reconciliation were impossible. Instead she found a familiar raven-haired baby on her doorstep and a note written in neatly looped cursive.

As the child grew, it was so easy to resent him. Raising two toddlers was far more work than one. But even worse than work was the questions. Questions from neighbors, questions from Vernon’s family, questions from her nephew. Each question brought up feelings of jealousy, resentment, anger, and, worst of all, shame. She and Vernon were determined to stamp out any abnormality, so anytime her nephew displayed anything unusual he would be punished; after all, if her parents had done the same to her sister, then perhaps she wouldn’t have been murdered, perhaps she would have been normal. It became so easy to exert her power over the boy, to make him suffer as, she felt, her sister had made her suffer. But, despite their best efforts, her nephew went off to the crackpot school and had his mind filled with nonsense year after year.

It wasn’t until Petunia was looking at her home in the rearview mirror as they fled for their own safety that she even considered what she had done. She thought of her sister, and considered what Lily might have done if the tables had turned. She thought about it the entire car ride to their safe house and discovered that she felt something new. Petunia Dursley was experiencing something new and terrible. It was irreconcilable, unforgivable, too late. It was regret.


End file.
